


The Adventures of Rocket and Pistol

by Scarlet_Ribbons



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Kink sheets, Light Bondage, Lying on kink sheets, M/M, Manhandling, Top Jared Padalecki, fluff at the end, porn stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Ribbons/pseuds/Scarlet_Ribbons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's first film is in a couple hours, so he's freaking out and can't figure out why his soon to be co-star, Jared, is walking around naked. Who does that? It's not like Jensen's insecure or anything, but the equipment Jared's packing - equipment that is going inside him in less than two hours - is like, eleven inches. Plus, Jared's harder to read than a Bible in the dark after marathon sex. And Jensen kinda lied on his kink sheet. Actually, he totally lied on his kink sheet. So, it looks like he's well and truly screwed.</p><p>Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Rocket and Pistol

**Author's Note:**

> My first submission for smpc!
> 
> Happy Mother’s Day! Because nothing really captures the true meaning of mothers like a one-shot about filming porn, I guess. Here’s to all the mothers who could use some porn to go along with their flowers and brunch.
> 
> On that happy note- enjoy!
> 
> (Thank you so much, trendykitty- you are an astonishing beta!)

 

Jensen kinda already knows he's pretty. It'd be a little silly for him to try to deny it at this point, because seriously, he's been hit on so many times that he has a list of responses he mentally refers to for an answer when someone tries to flirt with him- _Thanks, fuck off, haha...no, not a chance,_ and the rare _hot damn! yes._

 

Today he's sincerely feeling a grotesque blend of _fuck off_ and _not a chance,_ even though it's his first real film with a real producer and a co-star who usually 'breaks the new kids in.' The way the producer had chuckled the word 'break' didn't really bode well for Jensen, whose stomach had tightened at the word. He could almost literally feel his ass seal up like it was taking some kind of chastity vow without the actual belt, which was pretty fucking remarkable of it. But he couldn't waddle up to Jared Pada-whatever on stage like that, so he tried to calm down in the days before the big filming.

 

It didn't really work, and right now, he's still feeling pretty nauseous. He's already snapped at a makeup artist, the producer, and this _asshole_ named Chad who's been lurking around set. Jensen doesn't know who he is or if he's even allowed to be there, but hey, he doesn't make the rules around here. He hasn't even met his co-star yet, which the producer has convinced him is because he wants them to act in their 'natural elements.' He hadn't wanted them to befriend each other and behave differently on set because of it, which had then made sense, but now sounds sketchy.

 

He needs fucking coffee.

 

Moving from his perch on the set's king-size - draped in luxurious swathes of silky blue - he strides purposefully towards the producer, a weedy guy named Joe, who's chewing on a cigar and barking shit in Italian at some asshole on the other end of the phone. When Joe notices Jensen, he grins wide, exposing a couple gold chunks in the back of his mouth, then claps him so hard on the back that Jensen almost coughs up a lung.  

 

"My rising star!" Joe drawls, spreading his arms wide. "Whatcha need, _Pocket Rocket_?" The nicknames are absurd. Still, no matter how many times Jensen has tried to exempt himself from them, he allows himself to take some small comfort in knowing  that Joe's got 'em for for all of his stars.

 

His co-star, Jared Padalecki, is _Sex Pistol_.

 

"Coffee," Jensen grunts, rolling his sleeves up and frowning when the producer chuckles. He tries to slouch a little more to show just how unimpressed he is at this obvious condescension, but apparently, he only manages to look like a rumpled kitten who was woken far too early. Which, coincidentally, had been the reason he'd snapped at the makeup artist Danneel, earlier - for calling him that.

 

"Right, right. Forgot." Joe winks, still sort of chewing on his cigar as he smirks at Jensen around it with a yellowing smile. "Alright, hold on, there's a real nice place just nearby, I'll get someone to go with you."

 

"I'm perfectly _capable -"_ Jensen starts hotly, but he's cut off by Joe's underhanded 'tsk.'

 

The producer waves a tanned sausage of a finger at him as if Jensen's a misbehaving puppy. "I know that, Jensen. It's a bad section of town, though. You're a rising porn star, man. Can't exactly let you go out on your own out there. I'll get Chad to go with you."

 

 _Fucking Chad_. Jensen's about to protest heartily, but Joe lets loose with a bellow that rocks the floorboards and unhinges some unhappy spiders from the ceiling.

 

" _CHAD!"_

 

The blonde weed of a guy stumbles in immediately, almost impressively masking the hangover he has. Fucker should act in porn himself with that sort of skill. He ambles over, faintly reeking of booze, and rests an elbow on Jensen's shoulder. Jensen moves aside just to watch Chad stumble for a second. Because well, he's sort of an asshole...and...it's gratifying to be an asshole to Chad. He's a little prick. "What's up? You want me to measure Padawan's dick again for shits and giggles?"

 

Jensen gulps.

 

"Nah, leave him alone." Joe hesitates. "For now. Pistol gets cranky when anyone grabs his dick before filming."

 

Chad ponders that for a moment before chuckling. "He does, but that doesn't make it any less funny."

 

"Nah, this is for Rocket. He wants to get something to drink." Joe tips his head towards a grumpy Jensen, a faint half-smile crossing his mouth as he looks him over. "Take him to the coffeehouse next door, why don't ya. Get me a cappuccino while you're at it."

 

"Aye aye, cap'n." Chad garbles, holding the wrong hand up in a disastrous parody of the salute. He meets their cringing faces, then flops his hand down. "Everyone's a fuckin' critic," he grouches, his slender fingers gluing themselves to Jensen's elbow before they proceed to drag him out.

 

"I can walk," Jensen sputters, freeing himself and trying to keep up with Chad (which, wtf, the guy is hungover. How is he hard to keep up with?).

 

Chad smirks at him, chewing on painkillers. "Don't you want me to hold your hand while you walk, Jenny? Make you feel all secure inside?" He's chuckling at his own joke like an asshole, so Jensen feels very little regret at shoving him and watching him spiral away with an exaggerated groan. "Fuckin' - _Fuck you_ , man."

 

"You don't even swing that way."

 

"Fuck no I don't." Chad looks mighty scandalized for someone who works in gay porn. Gotta kind of have an open mind to do that, don't you? "Have you seen Sophia Bush, one of the makeup artists? She and Danneel Harris are the only ones Padawhak trusts to do his makeup, and Genevieve Cortese's the only one who does his hair. He's very particular about the female crew."

 

"He sounds picky," Jensen remarks, mostly because something about how Chad talks about Jared's tastes rub him the wrong way. He sounds like the type who'd freak out if someone left even a single strand undone. "And entitled."

 

"Hey man, you're the one taking his dick up your ass." Chad says, all too blithely, and Jensen almost bites his own tongue. "But it's okay, I don't think you'll even remember this conversation at that poin- _motherfucker!"_ Chad groans as Jensen hits him nice and hard upside the head. "Okay, _okay!_ Jared's been with the girls since he first started off in the filthy stuff, he's not that prissy."

 

Jensen pulls open the coffee shop door with a merry little tinkle, lowering his voice meaningfully as they head for the counter. It smells nice in the store, like warm cocoa with a little peppermint. "I- I wanna know more. About Jared."

 

Chad glances at him with a smarmy little smile, leaning over the counter to rattle off what he wants. "Can't tell you much about Jared," he remarks unhelpfully (seeing as he's apparently Jared's best friend), before turning to the barista and going, "one cappuccino, one espresso, one black, dark roast."

 

Jensen blinks in surprise. "Why are you ordering for me?"

 

"I'm not," Chad runs a hand through his hair, squinting at Jensen. "Me, Joe, and Jay. Jared. Whatever you call him. _Sex Pistol_." He repeats the name once again for effect, chuckling again like he knows something Jensen doesn't. "Oh, do you like black, too? You'll get along with Jared just fine. Kid can't have anything sweeter than a black."

 

Jensen usually doesn't bond over coffee, because it seems so darn pretentious, but right now, he's grasping at straws. He's making any feeble attempt, because he thinks Jared might hate him a little bit. After all, the guy hasn't come over or said hi or anything, and all Jensen had seen of him thus far was his back as he pulled on a shirt one day when he was leaving the studio. And it was a fine back, too, a mile of caramel skin sloping and dipping right down into his pants, the hollow of his spine slightly darker than the rest of his skin.

 

"That's ... Cool," he says, lamely. Fuck. He needs his coffee if he's going to be even vaguely articulate in the mornings. He's already chugging it down, scalding hot ambrosia galloping down his throat as they head back out, and he only lifts his head after swallowing. Chad watches, half amused, half impressed, before taking a sip of his own coffee.

 

"You half dragon or something, Ackles?"

 

Jensen's about to concisely respond with a "fuck you" when he hears a familiar, whiskey-sweet Southern drawl from behind him.

 

"That for me?"

 

Jensen nearly shits himself spinning around. It's the man himself. _Sex Pistol_. Jared Padalecki, beautiful boy from the South, dangerous with those potentially trademarked Americana dimples and that soft, unbelievably fluffy, hair that Jensen really wants to touch, and those legs, he swears those legs go on and on and on -

 

Oh.

 

Jared is incredibly, unavoidably, naked.

 

"Oh my _God!"_ Jensen spends far too long staring at what makes Jared the _Sex Pistol_ before he swivels away and tries real hard not to think about what he's just seen. It's not like Jared's dick is ugly or anything, it's really not, it's actually very attractive. For a dick. Slightly curved at the head, smooth, the same, soft color as the rest of his skin, fucking _big._.. Oh, shit, even his thoughts are complete garbage. Chad's laughing so hard he can barely stand upright, the asshole.

 

"Why -- Why aren't you wearing any _clothes!"_ Jensen squeaks, literally squeaks, and he knows his face is a hideous shade of red and his palms are sweating and oh, fuck, he is actually losing it at the sight of his incredibly naked co-star's body. Holy fucking shit.

 

".... I take it you're _Pocket Rocket_ ?" The asshole sounds _bored,_ like whatever he sees in Jensen isn't up to par. Whatever, not everyone tans perfectly. Or wants to tan. Ugh. Jensen suddenly feels pale and unwieldy and _short,_ because Jared has at least three inches on him. "Joe's new plaything?"

 

Jensen turns back around, covering his eyes with one hand, and scowls at the bastard sightlessly. "I'm not anyone's _plaything."_ He grimaces. "I'm gonna be acting beside you, so you don't have to be a dickwad." He swallows, moving his fingers so they cover more of Jared's body. "And why the fuck aren't you wearing _clothes?"_

 

"It's comfortable," Jared says, calm and infuriatingly unruffled. Jensen hears a sound that must be Jared crossing his arms. "I take it you're kinda shy? If I were you, I'd look. Might as well see the goods I'm working with, right?" Jared's clearly smirking a bit, and even though all Jensen can see are a few strands of shaggy hair, he's kind of turned on by it. Motherfucker.

 

"We're people," Jensen says frostily, "Not cardboard boxes full of sex toys." But he lowers his hands anyway, because to some extent, Jared's right. It's kind of crippling to his security to know that Jared walks around the studio 100% naked most of the time because he can, and because he seems like one of those people who's always annoyingly comfortable in their own bodies. It makes Jensen edgy.

 

Jensen's not looking at Jared's dick anymore, but it's really a moot point. Jared is gorgeous _everywhere._ His body is sleek, almost streamlined, his expression unperturbed, and when he lifts a hand to run his fingers carelessly through his hair, every chestnut and copper piece falls right back into place. The strands that don't ruffle back to create sex hair that Jensen can only achieve after purposely tossing and turning in bed for like four hours. And fuck, he's got these _eyes,_ indecisive eyes that pick a new color every time Jared angles his head differently. Spools of blue, green, hazel, all swirling, branching out and glittering. Jensen really wants to touch him, but he's trying to stay in character. Angry and disgruntled character.

 

"Hm," Jared scoffs, then eyes him indifferently before walking past him to get the coffee from Chad - and no, Jensen doesn't look at Jared's ass. Except he does. It's a really nice ass, too, which only just adds to the list of infractions. He picks up the cup of black coffee and, just like Jensen, gulps it down without even a blink. And so far, the only thing they've got in common is the way they drink coffee.

 

Here's the thing: Jared has everything that Jensen doesn't. He wears his skin like a suit of confidence, strutting around because he _knows_ no one will give him shit. And he can do that, because he's really pretty much the perfect male specimen. No one's even giving Jared a second look, even though he's fucking _naked._

 

It makes Jensen want to punch himself. And possibly crawl away to hide, because he honestly doesn't think he's gonna be able to do any sort of scene with Jared at this rate.

 

Jared doesn't spare him another glance after that, which doesn't help, only patting Chad's shoulder once before strutting off. He does say, "See you on set, _Rocket_ ," but he doesn't turn around, and he certainly doesn't sound excited the way he says it. Which kinda makes Jensen's heart sink. It's not like he wants to impress Jared, but he certainly didn't think Jared would be this bored with what he saw in Jensen.

 

Chad isn't very helpful. "Jared's always a bit standoffish," he remarks, poking at a blob of whipped cream on the top of his drink. "But it's only off-set, you see. You filled out that kink sheet, right?"

 

Jensen nods, kinda disturbed that Chad even knows about the infamous kink sheet, but then again, it's a pretty common thing to do in this studio specifically. Thing is, Jensen's a good actor, and he doesn't really want to share that he's a sucker for rough sex and dirty talk; he can pretend he's into whatever he put down on the paper... And now that he's met Jared, he's really glad he didn't put those down; he wouldn't put it past Jared to get some fun out of humiliating him.

 

So he put down things like 'go gentle, please' and 'no dirty talk' and even though he kind of hates himself for not just throwing down what he was really into, he's now almost certain that Jared is the wrong person to reveal those kinks to.

 

"Right, well... If there's one thing Jarpad's good at, it's getting to know his co-star. Have you ever seen any of his movies?" Chad slurps obnoxiously at his drink and leers at Jensen, obviously assuming that he has. Well, the thing is, Jensen hasn't. Which would explain why he reacted the way he did when he actually _saw_ Jared naked. But he nods anyway, because he doesn’t want to deal with too much of Chad's bullshit right now. "He acts like a dick offstage before he gets to know his co-star, but he's completely different in front of the cameras." Then he saunters off towards the makeup crew, ripped jeans riding low and smirk plastered all over his face and Jensen thinks Chad has a better chance of being laid tonight than he has of surviving the shoot with Jared.

 

There's really nothing else to do until then, other than watch a couple films with Jared in them, of course. This requires him actually asking Chad for porn films starring Jared. To his surprise, Chad doesn't make fun of him for it, much as he expects him to. In fact, Chad has quite possibly every film even mildly starring Jared, including the ones from when Jared was a bit younger and doing mostly bottom roles. Nowadays, he tops almost exclusively, so Jensen really wants to know why Chad is even in possession of all of Jared's porn films. Or, wait, no he doesn't.

 

Jensen feigns pre-filming nerves to a distracted Joe and retires to his hotel room, and as soon as he closes the door he's cocooning himself into a white silk robe and trotting over to the TV. He knows he just had coffee, but this is gonna obviously require a different type of drink, so he breaks out a bottle of his favorite Moscato Di Asti and lies back after popping the DVD in. He needs a slight buzz, but he still wants to focus on what he's watching. He had to bargain with _Chad_ for this, after all.

 

The one he's watching right now is the movie that Chad claims is the first film of Jared topping. It's probably a little revolutionary in that sense or something, but all Jensen can tell is that Jared apparently does not get nervous, ever. He wears his role like a bodysuit, sleek as he is offscreen, but this time, he's actually emoting. He smiles, he chuckles, he frowns, and every single movement is carefully planned, methodically thought out. He seems so genuine that the other actor, a strapping guy Joe's nicknamed Leather, melts. Jensen's fairly certain this has gotta be Jared's sixth or seventh time acting, but no, he's just _that_ good.

 

Jared is in his element on the screen, and, as far as Jensen can tell, almost everyone is bending to his will. The kid is magnetic and beautiful, charming and filthy, and even Jensen's kind of enchanted by the fourth or fifth film. He's also got a healthy buzz going, sure, but that doesn't mean he's admiring the healthy embodiment of male perfection any more than he should be. He might already have a crush on the fucking guy, and he's barely said more than a few sentences to him.

 

He can already tell that this is gonna suck.

 

\--

 

"You guys ready to film?" Joe finally looks up from his gold, crystal-studded phone, glancing around at the gathered cameramen and women before his eyes land on Jared. Jared looks like bored royalty, slouched in the director's chair with his suit, which, ironically, is the most clothes he's worn so far. Because only Jared would wear the most clothes when he's actually filming for a porn film.

 

Jensen feels a lot less classy, seeing as he's wearing a simple white t-shirt and some grease-smudged pants, both of which are gonna come off pretty soon seeing as he's the pretty mechanic that the sexy lawyer's gonna bend over. This is irony, clearly; Jensen's not gonna need the bright-ass sunlight to sweat, he's so fucking nervous he'll soak right through his t-shirt.

 

After almost two hours of watching Jared, he knows the disinterested act is total bullshit. Right now, Jared might be acting bored and aloof, but Jensen's fairly sure the fucker is figuring out the best place to put himself so that the light just bounces off his spectacular abs when he strips, or maybe he's trying to infuse the perfect amount of filthiness into his words so that he has a puddle of Jensen the minute he opens his mouth.

 

Well, Jensen isn't gonna succumb.

 

"I'm ready," Jared declares, sliding off the chair and tucking his hands into his pockets before he glances at Jensen. His gaze is half-lidded and shuttered, almost lazy, and his lips are pursed, making him look as if there's really anywhere else he'd rather be than here, entertaining some rookie. "Coming?" He asks, cocking his head towards the garage set for the scene. The car is a gorgeous 1967 Chevrolet Impala, the car Jensen's supposed to be cleaning in the scene, with his rich, asshole client watching him. If anything, the car makes the situation better.

 

Jensen's mouth twists. Fuck Jared Padalecki, anyway.

 

"I'm ready," he throws at Joe, matching Jared's long-legged strides as they take their spots. Jensen schools his expression into something doe-eyed and eager, as if he just can't _wait_ to plunge the sponge in the sudsy water and wash the hell out of Jared's car, and Jared keeps the same poker face up until the moment Joe says, "Action."

 

And then, right before his eyes, Jared changes.

 

Jensen says, _"I can't wait to get my hands on this one,"_ and true to porn cliches, Jared laughs, a purr of a sound, and responds, _"I'd rather get my hands on_ you." It's a line Jensen's heard over and over, in almost every porn movie ever, with slight modifications. But, when Jared says it, his stomach dips. Jared's not stumbling through the line, infusing it with fake sultriness; he's got this really unfair way of saying things that make people feel like they matter. Jensen could be Jared's damned one and only right now, the only one in the room he's got his eyes on.

 

It's bullshit, but it's charming bullshit, and Jensen, like the co-stars before him, is in love.

 

Jared gazes at him as he advances, his mouth soft with a promising smile, just a hint of teeth glittering at Jensen before he leans against the car to watch Jensen work. Jensen flexes and teases and invites, and when he sprawls out over the hood of the car, his shirt hikes up to expose his hip. It's the invitational cue for Jared, who skims his fingers along Jensen's hip.

 

"Whoa," Jensen peels away from the car, hands raised, mouth schooled into a frown. Tom the car-washer isn't even into _guys_. Even if those guys are as smoking hot like Jared. And have Jared's glass-sharp jawline and his perky ass. Er, what? "Hey, man, what was that about?"

 

At this point in the script, Jared's supposed to give him an innocent smile and back off, only to return again and brush up against Jensen when offering him food. Then, Jensen says something to the effect of, _What if it's your cock I want, instead?_ and they have cringe-worthily cute sex for the next two hours. But Jared fucks that all right up.

 

Jared stares at him from underneath heavily lidded eyes, his expression a sleek combination of sultry and dangerous, and smiles. The twist of his mouth is sharp and almost deadly, and, as he advances on Jensen, Jensen suddenly feels like a small creature being stalked by a jaguar. Jared prowls a little closer, hovers around Jensen, and then loosens his tie. Which is a serious turn-on for Jensen, especially with Jared's dextrous fingers being the topic of attention.

 

Jared's fingers work along the silky fabric, before he ultimately yanks it from around his neck in a swift, sleek movement; that same tie finds its way around Jensen's wrists, seconds before Jensen's promptly pushed up nice and close to the car's hood, up close and personal with the cool metal. He's bent in half, a solid ninety degrees, and before he can even start to consider this, he's already getting hard.

 

Jared's straying from the script, big time, and no one's stopping him.

 

"Wh-What are you doing?!" Jensen gasps, and that's not part of the script, either, but he figures it's as good a thing to gasp as any when your hot corporate client suddenly bends you over the car you're supposed to be washing.

 

"Well, I figure that, if I pay for your services," Jared drawls, coming in close enough that Jensen can feel the hot brand of his cock press against the crease of his ass. "I get all of you, don't I?" Jared's voice simmers with charm, like liquid gold. The words and tone crawl up Jensen's spine pleasantly, causing him to shiver with adrenaline beneath Jared. "I get to have all of you."

 

Jensen chokes on his own saliva and outrage as he squirms to try to look at Joe. It's really kind of unfortunate, though, because his manhandling kink is starting to surface and poke its nose into something that isn't even vaguely its business. He wants to put a stop to it, but he can't even really be bothered to, because his dick is hardening rapidly and pressing against the car uncomfortably. "Stop," he sort of whines halfheartedly, and Jared only laughs at him. After all, the large hand cupping his cock slightly probably has a very good idea of exactly how Jensen feels about this change of plans.

 

"Do you really want me to?" Jared purrs, his other hand lifting away from where it's just finished knotting the silk around Jensen's wrists. Jensen has no fucking idea how Jared even knows about all these kinks, how he could've ever done this much research to figure out what has Jensen turned on brighter than a light bulb. The bondage, the manhandling... Jensen's both dreading and _desperately_ awaiting whatever Jared's gonna use on him next. The silk rubs along the insides of his wrists almost soothingly, which makes him kind of groan.

 

"You're an ass," he growls through his teeth, hips jerking as his cock drags mercilessly along the warming metal. Jared hums in agreement, and Jensen hears the slide of the bottle of motor oil being dragged along the floor. It's not real motor oil, just lubricant dyed black to make it look like motor oil. That was exactly the kind of thing no one wanted in their ass, ever.

 

"You like everything I'm doing to you," Jared growls beside his ear, his head bent down low enough that his mouth scrapes the shell of Jensen's ear, and fuck, he’s not even wrong. Jared's -- Jared's a fucking powerhouse. It's in the bands of muscle rippling beneath his skin, in the way he's holding Jensen down by just a hand against the small of his back. Jensen's under the false pretense that he could stand up, but he has this feeling that Jared could pin him down as easily as a butterfly.

 

Jared's hand crawls up Jensen's spine, his other hand drenched in the black lubricant and sneaking into the hem of his pants. Jared's hand wraps around his cock, slick and fucking enormous, spanning his entire length in one go, and then he's pulling Jensen upright to face the camera. It's humiliating, the way Jared's arranging him the way he wants him, but Jensen can't help but get off on it. He hardens under Jared's slick hand, head tipped back to rest on the other's shoulders, and tries to jerk his hips up. Jared's fingers stroke along the base of his cock teasingly.

 

And then Jared starts talking. "Look at you, doing anything you can to get off on my hand," he starts, almost conversationally, and Jensen’s cock jumps eagerly at the attention. "Even the slightest bit of relief, and you'll take it." His hand tightens, drawing a guttural groan from Jensen's throat. "Are you always this slutty? You'll bend over for anyone who treats you rough?"

 

Jensen can't breathe. It's like Jared's reaching into him and taking out every dark thought, everything that Jensen will never admit, and laying it bare. How could he know this? How is he able to make Jensen bend and react like this, writhe and twist under his touch? How is he able to make him speechless so easily?

 

"You're just a filthy little slut, aren't you?" Jared purrs, rubbing his thumb against the slit of Jensen's cock, "Oh, yes, you are. I can feel you leaking all over my hand, I can feel you thrusting and trying to get off." He hears Jared dip his fingers into the lubricant again, hears the little ripple of liquid before his pants are tugged down. Fucking _hell._ Everything's almost going too quickly for him to realize. "Big boy, I see." Jared leans in to nip at Jensen's ear, then bites and bites again, almost breaking skin with his teeth. Jensen's tendons strain, he's so tense, and he's practically arching onto his tiptoes to accommodate Jared's height.

 

Jared's fingers aren't quite thick. They're long and slender, so before Jensen knows it, he's taking three fingers at once. Jared doesn't wait, and he certainly doesn't talk to Jensen like he's afraid for him.

 

"C'mon," Jared growls, his voice husky with lust, and pushes until his fingertips are pressed against Jensen's prostate. Jensen's an impaled mess, trapped with all of Jared pushed up against him, and he's trying desperately to rock back down against them to find that bright spot again. He's practically shaking from the exposure, begging Jared in a string of babbled pleas to fuck him, do anything to him, anything that'll light that spark of pleasure deep inside of him.

 

"You want it so bad," Jared croons, spinning Jensen back around and pushing him back-down against the car again. Jensen ripples underneath Jared's hands, his eyes blown wide open, and he hates himself for ever underestimating Jared. Jared, who's replacing his fingers now with his cock, breaching into Jensen like he's silk. "Look at you taking my cock like this, you little slut. Legs spreading for me, for my cock. Can you even take all of it? Huh?"

 

Jensen's wrists are tucked awkwardly beneath him, but this is the most turned on he's ever been in his life and he wants Jared to break him. He wants Jared to fuck him until he forgets his name, until he forgets the feeling of having to smother his kinks down. Jared's taking care of him.

 

"Please," Jensen gasps, squeezes his eyes shut, "Please, I can take it, please, give me all of it. Please." He begs, and he doesn't care that he's laying there, spread out and wanton for Jared. "Fuck me, please."

 

Jared's eyes glitter as he leans over Jensen, mouth beside his ear so no one can hear him. "You're not half bad, Rocket," he murmurs, thrusting until Jensen feels Jared deep in his stomach, the head of the other's cock rubbing up against his prostate and causing Jensen's own cock to twitch with need. Jared’s stretching him out, he can feel the slight sting at the point of entry but hell, he craves that. He’s fucking aching for it, and no one knows it better than Jared.

 

"How did you know?" He practically whimpers underneath Jared, unraveled, kind of pathetic but loving it. "How are you doing this?" The curiosity is fucking killing him. He can't imagine how Jared found out exactly what he's ever wanted, but right now, it doesn't matter. Because it's amazing.

 

Jared smiles, and it's a very pretty look for him. He has dimples carved deep into his cheeks, dimples that Jensen's pretty sure could fit his fingers quite well. "Research," he drawls, almost teasingly, thrusting once more against Jensen's hips; he rocks against Jensen's prostate, back and forth, as if he's just decided that he wants to be a massive fucking tease.

 

"Oh, God, please!" Jensen curses as he keens, wishing more than ever that his hands were free. He wants to climb Jared like a tree, let the other pin him into the wall and fuck him silly. Jared's blackened fingers pluck at Jensen's nipples beneath his shirt, and shit, those are sensitive, so soon enough Jared's got a mewling puddle of Jensen beneath him. Jared's bracing one knee beside him onto the car, flushed, sweat glittering along his hairline as he pumps into Jensen. The poor thing's still in his suit, which is incredibly disheveled at this point, his shirt messy and smudged with black fingerprints.

 

Jensen throws his head back as Jared fucks him, thumping it against the car, because the pleasure that he's getting from just Jared's cock inside of him is almost too much and dulls the slight pain where he smacked his own head. Plush lips part into an 'o' of arousal, brain too scrambled to even realize that Jared's bent down next to his ear again.

 

"If we weren't filming," Jared purrs, licking the lobe of Jensen's ear delicately before latching and sucking and leaving butterfly-light kisses over the shell, "I'd make you scream my name for hours, Jensen. I'd do _filthy_ things to you until you're begging to be done. I'm gonna ruin you like you've never been ruined before."

 

The worst part of all of this is that Jensen wants all of what Jared's just proposed.

 

The other leans back again, pistoning with one more sharp thrust against Jensen. "And I'm gonna make you take it all, every. Single. Time." Each word is punctuated by Jared's cock punching into him, hard enough that Jensen's breath is gone. Jared's really holding him down now, by one hand at least, while he's got the other wrapped around Jensen's cock and pumping away fervently. His thumb tucks under the head of Jensen's cock and rubs at the underside, even as the slit beads up with precome.

 

"You're just a wet little slut," Jared marvels, "bet you could take anything in here. You could take another cock, if you wanted. Maybe you want my fingers, too. Whaddaya think, Angel? You think you could take my fingers, too?" Jensen wishes it were part of the script to glare and tell Jared to maybe fuck off before he combusts.

 

He whimpers at the speed and roughness with which Jared's using him, cock barely giving Jensen a moment to gulp in a breath of air before it stuffs him full again. But Jensen _loves it._ He's always wanted to be used like this, always wanted to be roughed up and thrown down and treated like the slut he is.

 

"Oh, yeah," Jared sucks in a sharp breath before his tip-tilted, gleaming eyes focus on Jensen again, and Jensen loses himself in the hypnotizing glints of copper in Jared’s irises. "You're fucking gone for my cock, aren't you? Bet you're already thinking about next time." God, yes, yes he is, he’s imagining Jared using that same silky tie on him again, Jared wrapping it around his cock and tugging and using it to jerk him off. Christ, where has Jared been the entirety of Jensen’s life?

 

He clamps down on Jared's name, watching him wildly, almost asking if that's a promise. Is next time a promise? He needs a next time with Jared. He needs Jared to be the one, because he thinks he'll never be happy with anyone after Jared. Jared knows what he wants, no, he knows what Jensen needs, he knows Jensen doesn’t want to be coddled and petted and treated like some precious animal. God knows he’s tired of the praising and the pampering.

 

Jared bends down again, his words a shiver of breath beside Jensen and whispered towards the car. "Think I'm gonna keep you," he drawls, and Jensen comes with a cry.

 

Jared follows right after, spilling warm and filling into Jensen, and Jensen's so gone that he barely remembers this is a film. He has to be supported, half by Jared, half by Joe, off the car and onto the nearest comfortable surface. He can dimly hear Joe and Jared arguing in the background, but he's fucking tired, and he doesn't even wait for them to shut the fuck up before he passes out.

  
At least now he knows why they call Jared the Sex Pistol.

 

\---

 

When Jensen comes to, he still hears yelling.

 

"- _supposed_ to stick to the script, and you're always doing your own thing -"

 

“ _Joe,_ I didn’t want to - ”

 

“You guys are too loud,” someone complains, “And you’ve been at it for too long.” Jensen doesn’t need to turn to see it’s Chad, but he does anyway, and he’s not really surprised to see the other looking disheveled with a messy pile of sex hair. Chad swaggers between Jared and Joe and remarks, with a smirk, “ _Pistol,_ you should be a little gentler with that nuclear weapon between your legs.”

 

" - I would never have done anything to hurt him!” Jared blurts out. “I knew what I was doing, I researched everything about him! Did you know a bunch of producers turned him down after he told them what he was into? I wanted him to enjoy it, Joe!"

 

Now that's embarrassing, and something Jensen wishes Jared had never found. Then again, the filming was the best sex Jensen had ever had, so.... Maybe it was for the better. He blinks blearily, turning so he can hear a little better. And - _NO,_ his heart is not fluttering at the idea that Jared cared about him even before they even started shooting.

 

"Yeah, and the same thing's gonna happen if you don't stick to the rules and film according to script! You always think you know everything about the other person, and that's not confidence, Jared, that's cockiness!" Joe sounds like he's going to have an aneurysm, and he's using Jared's actual name instead of the nickname, so that's really gotta mean something. But they really need to  fucking quiet down, because Jensen is not in the mood for this bullshit. He groans, loudly and meaningfully, and Joe's figure sharpens as the man teleports to his side, his brow wrinkled with expressive concern.

 

"Rocket!" he booms, obviously terrified that Jensen's gonna sue him and his company for letting Jared go rampant. "I am so sorry, that will never happen again. Jar- Pistol will stick to his lines, I swear," he babbles, and Jensen feels a twinge of satisfaction when he holds up a hand and the blathering trembles to a stop. Joe looks petrified.

 

Jensen marches past him, his eyes fixed on Jared, who's hovering uncertainly behind. Jared's not blank-faced anymore, he's concerned, and the space between his eyebrows is pinched with it. Jensen's weirdly relieved; he was really hoping Jared would open up a little to him after the filming.

 

"Hey." Jared sounds younger than ever; for the first time, Jensen really does feel older. He's almost completely naked again, wearing only briefs this time, exposing his miles and miles of leg. Jensen also kinda wants to stroke (and yeah, maybe lick) his abdomen, but it has to wait. "You, um. Hey, how do you f-"

 

"Shut it," Jensen barks, and Jared's mouth snaps shut. Oh, yeah. Jensen's in power, baby. "You humiliated me on set, did you know that?" Jared looks down at his feet, his composure resembling that of a kicked puppy down to the dewy hazel eyes. Jensen kind of wants to pet his head and tell him he's just messing with him, but... Nah. "I explicitly put down what I wanted on the sheet, and you went against everything that I said and toyed with me."

 

Jared actually looks appalled. " _No,_ that wasn't - that's not what I meant to do at all!" he splutters. It's actually kind of funny. And a little endearing. "You - that wasn't my intention at all, Jensen, I swear. I thought - I mean, I thought you had a thing for dirty talk, and you responded to being roughed up, and -" he babbles, and Jensen raises his voice.

 

" _That being said,"_ he declares, cutting through Jared's pitiful apologies, "That was pretty much the best sex I've ever had. So you should do that again. A lot." He glances down at Jared's crotch meaningfully, quirking one eyebrow. "You got me.... _Pistol?"_

 

“Ugh, gross,” Chad grimaces as he heads for the door, and Jensen kinda wishes the other had stuck around for the filming. Oh, wait, no he doesn’t. That’s just recipe for disaster.

 

Jared ignores Chad and gazes at him with something like wonder and a whole lotta lust. "Uh-huh," he breathes, a smile catching at the corners of his mouth. One dimple starts to twinkle into existence. Jensen can see that smile becoming pretty infectious, 'cause even now he feels his own mouth quirk upwards. Jared's smile goes a little sultry, then, his voice teased with a lick of heat. "A lot, huh?"

 

"Yeah, but don't bet on it any time soon." Jensen scowls, squirming uncomfortably. "You didn't fucking use enough lube for that monster you call a dick."

 

Jared pouts. "I'll get you a pillow, Princess."

 

"A micro bead pillow." Jensen shoots back, and then grins, not just at Jared, but at Joe, who looks like a shocked fish, complete with bulging eyes and everything. "So, I hear you like your coffee black."

 

"Like my soul," Jared quips, grabbing his shirt off the chair and smiling back as he tugs it down over his head. He looks loose and happy and carefree, his hair a shaggy mess as he untucks it from his collar. "Wouldn't mind some right about now."

 

It's gonna be fun, working with Jared, even though they had to bond over coffee of all things. But the truth is, Jensen's kinda (really) excited.

 

Seriously though, that walking around naked thing _has got to stop._

  



End file.
